Edward's Last Day of School
For most of Edward’s classmates, the last bell of the school year rang with a jubilant finality. Almost at once the hallways became a river of students and voices chattering excitedly over one another. Lockers slammed open and shut. One of Edward’s classmates bragged that his family was leaving for the lake first thing in the morning. Another boy looked forward to his baseball camp. Even the teachers seemed a little lighter as they stood by their doors saying cheerful goodbyes while the students spilled past them into the warm afternoon.
Each happy exchange among his classmates seemed to strike him in a different place. Summer, to everyone else, sounded wide open and carefree. To Edward it almost felt like a door closing. The rest of his afternoon would be subject to Aunt Patricia’s schedule and the demands of the portrait. Very soon, he would be prettily dressed in one of his dresses and on the way to Miss Vale’s studio for another sitting. Another long afternoon of ringlets, velvet, and stillness was in front of him. Even more days being dressed, curled, powdered and posed awaited him after that. He sighed in resignation. Weeks of his summer had been stolen in advance.
And of course, there was also the matter that the girlish way he was spending his free time was no longer a close secret. That thought kept returning. Lily knew, Hannah knew, Sophie knew, Rachel knew, and those were only the names he knew for sure. There seemed to be another cluster of girls at neighboring lockers, friends at lunch tables and older students who knew what a sissy he was becoming. Edward could not stop imagining Hannah sharing the pictures of him in his darling yellow dress at the ice cream shop. Who else would find out? Who had already found out?
Edward moved through the crowd quietly, trying not to listen.
As soon as he was home, he found himself back in his darling pink Sunday school dress. Then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, he was back in Miss Vale’s studio. This time, the swiftness of the transition unsettled him more than anything. Less than two hours earlier, the last bell of the school year had released everyone else into summer. He could still hear it in his mind. Edward had been carried in the opposite direction.
He was again dressed with careful efficiency in his corset, tights, silk chemise and fluffy petticoats. He quietly endured the skilled pull of Mrs. Bell’s comb through his hair and the return of his adorably glossy ringlets. The vaguely familiar layer of powder and lipstick made his face soft and demure once more as he was again meticulously fastened into the old lilac gown.
Miss Vale then guided him back onto the chair and made sure his layers of skirts and petticoats were arranged just so. She placed his hands and feet with that same gentle precision. Edward sat very still as the pose closed around him again. All Miss Vale’s little supports, stays and ties were put in place to ensure he held the most delicately girlish pose for his portrait. He knew now what each touch and adjustment meant, and he felt a fresh embarrassment in how quickly his body obeyed the routine. Jarringly, the happy sounds from the playground cascaded through the window as Edward was again enveloped in his elaborate Victorian finery.
The seconds stretched into small eternities as he sat demurely, encased in his intricately feminine wardrobe.
Aunt Patricia leaned toward his mother with a glowing smile. “He really is so lovely like this,” she murmured admiringly, “look how much more natural he looks today!”
Edward silently cringed as his Aunt Patricia practically fawned over his girlish appearance. He was unsettled to feel another disturbing warmth and excitement in his frilly panties!
Almost as if she sensed his reaction, his aunt’s smile widened with unmistakable satisfaction. “His hands rest so daintily, and it’s so sweet how those darling ringlets frame his face.” Aunt Patricia gave a pleased little sigh. “Practice has done wonders for our little darling. It is almost as if the gown remembers him. He looks as though he were born for this!”
His mother nodded softly but did not speak. Miss Vale continued to paint with gentle but confident strokes of her brush.
Later, with his fourth sitting mercifully behind him. Edward again sat with his mother and aunt in the little ice cream shop. Aunt Patricia had decided it would be nice to continue these “outings” after his sittings as a reward. All things considered, Edward would much rather have gone straight home than spend more time dressed like this with all the eyes on him. He had been reticent to say anything, however, and his mother had of course gone along. So here he sat again back in his pink Sunday dress. He worried that Lily or Hannah or one of the other classmates who seemed to know about him would walk in any moment.
It was while they ate that Aunt Patricia spoke again. “Edward, dear, now that school is out for the summer, we can make some more plans.” She continued, “Miss Vale told me that she thinks she will actually need about fifteen more sittings to get your portrait exactly right.”
Edward started involuntarily. “Fifteen more… Aunty?” he managed to spit out.
“Well yes, now that she’s had time to assess the work, I’ve asked her to make sure she captures all the rich details of your hard work, sweetie!”
Edward had been counting the days until summer looking forward to a reprieve. He had desperately wanted to reclaim at least a little free time away from dresses for himself. The last few days had been nerve-wracking. Now the number of sittings he would have to endure seemed to multiply of their own accord.
“Since it appears we have all this extra time,” Aunt Patricia announced happily, “I spoke to Mrs. Bell today and she agrees we should arrange some maintenance appointments for your hair while you are doing your sittings.” She continued, “consistency is everything!” She explained, “Miss Vale cannot be expected to paint the same ringlets if they change from one session to the next.”
With a sinking feeling, Edward sat silently as Aunt Patricia informed him and his mother that she had already set up a series of “maintenance” appointments at Mrs. Bell’s salon, “Belladonna,” on Saturday mornings until the portrait was done. “Your first one is this Saturday,” she announced.
Edward looked powerlessly at his mother, helplessly hoping she might object. Mrs. Gray only nodded uncertainly. “If Miss Vale thinks it will help the sittings, perhaps it is sensible.” Edward understood then that this portrait project had grown even more tentacles outside the studio.
“And since we have such an open schedule before your sittings now, Mrs. Bell offered as well that we could bring you to Belladonna for a brief appointment before each sitting to put your ringlets in.” Aunt Patricia smiled, “It’s right down the street, and she just thinks it will be faster and easier to do it in her salon instead of the studio. Of course, I agreed at once!”
“Patricia, won’t that be expensive?” Edward’s mother asked hesitantly.
“Don’t give it a second thought, Marian,” Aunt Patricia replied nonchalantly, “It was my idea, so of course I will see to it.”
Edward’s spirits plummeted. Now his Saturday mornings would be stolen too, and the added prospect of a hair salon visit before every sitting promised to draw things out even more. Adding this new regimen of hair care did not feel like dressing up for a single afternoon. A dress could be taken off. A little makeup could be washed away. But his hair was his hair, growing every day. Aunt Patricia now spoke of it as something to be preserved, trained and closely managed. The continuity of it all began to weigh on him, the idea that he was always being kept ready for this portrait’s increasing demands.
Topic: The Portrait of Edward Gray (Read 5993 times)
